


Advice

by tatooedlaura



Series: Life, Part 2 [32]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 09:52:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12862029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: Maggie knows best ...





	Advice

Leaning, she let her heavy head loll forward onto her crossed arms, looking sideways at Maggie through wide-open eyes, “it’s taken me so long to get used to the idea of not having kids that I can’t let myself dwell on any type of ‘what-if’ and one night, I was stupid and let him and he pulled me in and I went blindly and willingly.” Growling into the tabletop, “it was just after everything, the day he kicked you out,” seeing Maggie nod, “and I had to autopsy three kids that day and the conversation snowballed and we were there … we were in that damn fantasy and I didn’t stop him fast enough and I lost it completely.”

“I’m sorry, honey.”

“What’s worse is he offered to pay for trying invitro and it’s all I can do to not think about it all day, every damn day.”

Maggie, not-so-famous Scully face scrunch of hard and fast thinking parking itself on her countenance for several long seconds, placed a hand on her daughter’s back and curving the other arm to the table, settled her own head down to look Scully in the eye, “then why don’t you do it?”

Those were the last six words she’d been expecting to hear, “what?”

“Why don’t you try it? Talk about it with Fox and then give it a chance.” She knew her child better than her child ever dreamed, “I think you have to.”

Whispering now, “what if it doesn’t work?”

“Then it doesn’t work. You know why this has been constantly on your mind? Because you want it to work and the only comfort you get is knowing it’s still a possibility out there in the universe. If you try and it fails, you don’t have that option. The problem is, it’s also your agony because you are scared that it will fail.” Hushing Scully just as she took a breath to protest, “remember, if you do it and it fails, you will have at least tried. You won’t have that ‘what-if’ as you called it to die over. You will be able to tell yourself you did everything you could and it wasn’t meant to be instead of ‘I can’t try it because it might not work’. ‘Might not’ and ‘what-if’ will damage you far more than anything else.”

Another hard sniff later, “I’ve had too much alcohol for this conversation.”

“Betty cut the recipe in half, you only had half a glass, you still have half of that half left and you filled the cup full of ice … you are more sober than I am and I could dance the tango on these crutches if necessary without missing a beat so no, you have not had too much alcohol for this conversation.” Thumbing towards the snoring Mulder, “he probably hasn’t either but he had a damn sight more than you.”

“Are you saying I should go in there and wake him up and tell him to get out his checkbook, we’re going to try to make a baby?”

Accepting the bluntness with the lateness of the hour, she nodded, “good in theory but probably best executed after he’s slept longer than 20 minutes and Betty’s concoction is fully out of his system.”

The world shifted upright again, balance achieved with motherly banter. Smiling, Scully sat back up, “are you tired?”

“Not really.”

“Would you like to go out and get another milkshake with me?”

Midnight ice cream solved all kinds of things and when it didn’t, it soothed the savage truth enough to let all parties concerned relax into quiet.

“New traditions are good so, yes, I would love to go for a milkshake with you.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Scully crawled in beside Mulder a little after 3am, milkshake turning into random talk of the universe with the owner of the all-night diner two neighborhoods over. Settling her head beside his, she kissed his cheek, breathing a hope to the night, her words of ‘I want to have a baby with you’ drifting via unconscious ear into the soul, a small smile creasing his face as he whispered a fast-asleep ‘I love you’ back.

5am, right on the nose, just as Scully was cruising to decent, deep sleep, eyeballs roaming as they surveyed her dreams, REM cycles rejuvenating body, mind, soul, tired limbs, scratchy throat, tensed muscles, he woke up.

And her with him, hands on arm, shaking her gently, “Scully … Scully … get up …”

Crackling a harsh groan into her pillow, she ignored him as best she could, turning her head, pushing her hand fruitlessly against him, squeezing her eyes shut tighter, desperate to return to dreamland right freaking now.

“Did you say last night that you wanted to have a kid with me?”

Seriously, how the hell did he do that? It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last that it took him two hours to two days to process something she said but right now, she wished he would be quiet and not too polite to tell him that, she followed up her ‘maybe’ with ‘now shut your eyes and go back to sleep before I smother you with a pillow’.

Whatever, he could take on a morning sleep-deprived Scully with hands tied behind his back and mouth full of crunchy peanut butter. Scooting closer, he lowered his voice, gentle movements and humming words in her ear, “wanna start right now?”

Okay, that got her, a surprise chuckle eliminating any hope of sleep for the moment, “I’d like to brush my teeth first, if that’s okay? Maybe not be in my mother’s house while she’s once again mobile and probably 12 feet away in the kitchen making breakfast as we speak.”

Smacking his lips together and tasting stale blue punch, “I agree on the whole teeth thing and raise you a glass of mouthwash. Why does Punch leave an aftertaste of dead cat and rotting tuna fish but taste so good going down?”

“I imagine if Betty ever told you, she’d then have to kill you and I’d prefer you not dead and all.”

Mulder dragged himself upright, then, discretely shifting jeans, shirt and scratching his head a few times before scrubbing his face awake, “you really did say that though, right? About having a baby?”

Stretching across the mattress, cat-like in her mewling sounds as she twisted joints and over-extended muscles to mush, “I heard your pie talk last night as did everyone else and you told them about how you were going to teach our daughter to cook.” Plowing through, even as she watched his face speed through several emotions, landing on nervously worried, sadly scared, “I thought too much, let that fucking one tear happen and mom saw it and we talked and she set me straight about a few things and yes, I really did say it and yes, I’m serious.”

“There was an inordinate amount of ‘ands’ in that sentence and how early can you call the doctor?”

Scully shut her eyes again, hand to her forehead, “can we maybe wait until the sun comes up, when doctors typically allow people to call them?”

Mulder, having had no idea it was seriously now only 5:10am, moved to sheepish and apologetic, “shit, I’m sorry. It feels later and so much has happened since we woke up, I lost track of time.”

Patting the mattress beside her, “would you just come back and lay down, please? I don’t think I’m going to fall back to sleep but let’s pretend, all right? Hide in the world of normal for awhile?”

He grinned, he flopped, he stared, first at her then when she swatted him, at the wall behind her head, “no more drinking. My boys need to be primed and sober and know which way to swim in the petri-dish. You’ll probably have to get the polyps taken care of before we do anything though ‘cause if it works, you probably shouldn’t be bleeding everywhere … although the sex won’t be as ‘vigorous’, can you hear the quotes, you still shouldn’t be bleeding everywhere regardless. Anesthetic isn’t good for a baby anyways so yeah, you’ll have to get that done first. I wonder what else I can do to give us better odds? Should I eat more kale or something, green things, spinach is healthy, right? I mean, it’s disgusting but I’ll eat it if it’ll …”

She shut him down with a hand over his mouth, muffling whatever inane sentences were to follow, “shhh. Just … shhhh, for now, okay? Can you promise to shhh because if you can’t, I’m going to kick you out and lock the door.”

The ‘yes, dear’ rang through her closed fingers and he went stealth, shutting his eyes and dreaming of alternate time-lined futures that may finally become reality while he listened to her breathing even out, her heartbeat under his fingers slowing as she slept.


End file.
